


Blackout

by Demenior



Series: Tomorrow I’ll Switch the Beat [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Gen, Haggar POV, Mentions of Violence, Shiro's Fun Year, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior
Summary: Champion proves his loyalty. Haggar finds she's growing more fond of him than she intended. They claim each other, in their own ways. orAn ambush, a question, and an escape. Not necessarily in that order.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place directly after the events of [Chapter 3 of Little Monster.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7877566/chapters/18563179) It's more of a snapshot in the life of Shiro during his Fun Year, and detailed around a significant event in his relationship with Haggar.
> 
> It can be read stand-alone, but the whole relationship and some references will make more sense if you've read Little Monster first. But heads up!! Little Monster is a, well, little monster of nightmare fuel. Read at your own risk!
> 
> All you really need to know is that Shiro is about 7 months into his captivity, and he's got that stockholm syndrome thing real bad. Reeaalll bad. 
> 
> Oh, also, the Galra in my head look more like [this](http://demenior.tumblr.com/post/151300810674/i-think-im-finally-happy-w-my-galra-redesign), so, factor that in when I mention things like fur and fangs, haha.
> 
> The title is from Muse's song, Blackout, and the story/themes hare are loosely inspired by said song. It's a lovely, emotional listen!

The shuttle is late. Haggar stands out on the landing pad with Champion, in the wretched heat of the planet. Her robe gives her some relief from the sun, but she's panting and longs for the cool temperatures of home.

Champion is obediently at her side. His hands are clasped behind his back and he stands with his back straight. He's the picture of a well behaved student.

He took off his robe in the heat— without fur his species seems to handle this kind of temperature well— but it means is more obvious that he is missing his champions ring. That will be their main concern once they return. He will need to recover his status quickly if he is to remain at her side. After his exploits in the Enclosure she has no doubts about his bloodlust or capacity for violence, and now that he’s working magic more regularly, the white is coming into his hair nicely. Soon he will look like a proper druid.

Whether he survives or not will be up to him. Haggar has sparred him twice now for his failures. That is more mercy than any other creature has ever gotten from her. She’s willing to keep him, but ultimately it remains on the Emperor’s word if she will be allowed to continue to train Champion. He may be a lost cause already, no matter how promising this last Feeding Day turned out to be.

Their shuttle lands quickly. It’s much smaller than what should have been sent. She can’t imagine what the captain is thinking, making the Galra crowd together like prisoners? She’s on the High Council, she’s the Right Hand to the Emperor. At the very least she deserves her own shuttle, than to be packed in with the common rabble.

Champion doesn’t move until she does, and follows on her heels. Haggar would very much like to get out of this heat. It feels as if her fur is wilting. Drones step out of the ship to greet them, and isn’t that insulting. For a Galra of her status Haggar should have an honor guard, not some mindless drones. But it makes sense as to why they were late. Drones are notoriously slow and cautious drivers, without the ability to make choices for themselves like when to break speed laws or take shortcuts.

“Escort us to the ship, and then return for the others,” Haggar demands. The heat has her in a foul mood, and she’s still tired after eating. Once aboard the transit ship up in orbit, she’ll be able to sleep off the last of her post-meal fatigue.

She can hear Champion’s quick footfalls on the ramp behind her, and notices that he falters. He’s not very clumsy, so it’s unusual for him to trip. She pays it no mind, and basks in the cool interior of the shuttle. Finally she can think. There are more Drones inside, far more than necessary for a transport shuttle, but perhaps this is the best honor guard they could come up with for her. Such shortsightedness won’t go unnoticed.

A spike of unease hits her from Champion. He gets unnerved by the strangest things. She glances down at him and he has his head up and he’s surveying the ship's interiors intently. There are burn marks all over, as if there had been a fight. What a dirty scrap of junk. There was a reason Haggar rarely left the pristine of the Royal Fleet. Anything below the High Council was just trashy.

She decides to take a seat while their bags are collected. Her limbs feel heavy and it’s hard to resist the temptation to sleep right now. It would be unbecoming for someone of her status to just sleep wherever she so liked, so she can wait until she’s in her quarters on the transit ship, but she’s dozy all the same.

Champion, on the other hand, requires much less sleep after eating. He’s alert and awake, and he is not happy. He hasn’t said anything, but his dread and anxiety are starting to bother her.

She reaches out in her quintessence, opening a bond between them so that she can soothe his fears. For all that Champion is a great warrior, he is plagued by nightmares and can work himself into a tantrum over the most mundane things like eating prey or her treatment of her research subjects. Pain is all part of the experimentation process, and how is she supposed to learn more if she doesn’t vivisect them? She would have had no idea that Champion had needed to eat daily if she hadn’t seen and felt for herself how small his stomach was. And with that knowledge, she was able to improve him so that his annoying constant need for nourishment is something more manageable. He still can’t go an entire cycle between eating, but he can wait long enough that it no longer impedes her plans.

The shuttle hums as the engines ignite, and they’re taking off. It shouldn’t be long before they’re on the transit ship and heading home.

She tempers his worries, and tries to smother out the weaker emotions he is having. It startles him, the touch of her on his aura, but he goes quiet under her energy. He’s a surprisingly quick study.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she consoles him, “you proved yourself capable in the Enclosure, and I am sure the Emperor will be happy to grant us more cycles toge—”

Champion’s head whips around and he’s shouting something— her name? A warning? But there’s dizzying light, and fierce pain in her side. Haggar snarls and she’s reaching for quintessence— who dares attack her? She will destroy them. Another blast hits her and the casting bones she had in her hand scatter on the floor. Her grasp on quintessence slips away as if it’s light she’s trying to hold in her fingers. She can’t find it— she can’t reach her magic.

They’ve managed to spell her to block her connection to quintessence. It is her greatest strength, but she still has her fangs. Her side is on fire from being shot, and she doesn’t have time to take stock of whether she’s bleeding or how bad the injury is. She targets the nearest drone— not drone, never a drone, she realizes. Spelled, charmed, covered in runes and incantations to mask their beating hearts and cruel intentions. The spellwork isn’t Galran. These are rebel forces! She’s walked right into their trap.

She charges, roaring in her rage. With her quintessence blocked she can’t feel Champion. She doesn’t know where he is. She can’t care for him right now— these rebels must learn the sharpness of her teeth.

A blaster shot hits her in the side, and knocks her off balance. She hits the side of the shuttle hard, making the whole spacecraft shake.

“What do you want?” she snarls.

Three rebels advance on her, raising their weapons. She can’t see if they’re set to stun, or to kill.

“Nothing will stop me but victory or death,” Haggar recites.

They fire.  
 

* * *

  
Haggar wakes quickly, though her mind feels slow like it’s dragging itself out of tar. First there’s smell, and sound, and then the flow of quintessence surrounds her. It’s murky still, just barely out of her reach, but she can brush it with her fingertips. It’s enough to confirm that she is still alive. She feels the breaks in her system—every place where her natural order has been disrupted by violence. She can feel that she’s no longer on the shuttle.

She’s lucky to be alive.

Currently she’s in no more pain than she should be— once she takes stock of her injuries. Her mind swims as she tries to focus, to find her last memories. Stepping onto the shuttle… the drones who were not-drones. Her arm is broken, and her side is lit up with burns.

Champion is so familiar to her that she finds him without thinking. She feels him as an extension of herself, something that she just keeps track of naturally. She’s surprised at the relief she feels at the touch of his comforting aura. He’s alive. He survived.

He feels her reaching out to him, and reaches back. She can feel his strength flowing into their bond as he offers her much more than he should. Speaking, at the moment, seems like too much of a hassle. Haggar lets their bond flow more openly, so he can feel exactly where she’s hurting, rather than explain anything. She’s alive. She’ll recover.

Champion pulls away abruptly, his attention elsewhere. Someone is coming down the hall. Haggar reaches out, feels for their intentions. She’s weak, she knows this, but she will not be taken surprise again. Her teeth are sharp, and pity the fool who does not beware them.

Champion moves to block the door as the doctor enters. Haggar has already relaxed herself, finding the doctor's intentions to be acceptable, and listens to the hum of their voices. Champion is demanding to know exactly what they have planned and what they will do to help her. He’s not afraid to order around Galra, and it’s surprising the staff here. Haggar smiles to herself as she blinks her eyes open. Champion is upsetting the natural order. She’s so proud of him.

The doctor is, hilariously, scared away by Champion’s interrogations. Champion is half the size of a Galra, but he has the bloodlust of a thousand warriors. She should know, considering she just saw him kill a whole pack of prey for her. As soon as the door closes, Champion turns and all but runs to her side.

What a relief it is to see his face. There’s blood in his hair, and he doesn’t appear to have left her side at all because he still smells like smoke and violence. It would be disgusting, if it didn’t mean so much. He is so non-Galran that it can be jarring, to look at his pale, naked skin and his big brown eyes. But he’s become a constant in her life, and she’s fond of him despite his ugliness. It’s charming, in its own way.

“They were going to take you,” Champion explains, “the rebels. They had runes to mask their auras. I’m sorry Malch, I was too late; I should have been paying more attention—”

One of her arms is broken, by the feel of it. It’s heavily bandaged. Haggar reaches out with her other. It is heavy, bruised, but still intact. She waves off Champion’s fretting.

He clicks his teeth shut, obediently composing himself, “They… they shot you. Stunned you, I guess. They broke your casting bones— they burned them! And your arm. They were going to break the other, to keep you from being able to cast any spells. And then they were going to take you, to use you as ransom. Or torture you for information. I don’t… I didn’t find out.”

Well, she would have plenty to talk about once she got her hand on these rebels. The loss of her casting bones was going to be difficult to get over. Without them her spells were greatly hindered. These rebels had a lot of information on how she operated. It was more than likely there was a mole in the High Council, to know so much about magic. Or perhaps the rebels had a witch on their side. That would be interesting, and explain the unfamiliar rune work.

Champion takes her wrist in his soft hands and positions it so that his cheek is against her palm. He is so fond of contact, it’s quite sweet. He sighs heavily, and she can feel him drawing on their bond. He surrounds himself with the feel of her, reassuring himself that she is here, both spiritually and physically.

She would find this kind of clingy behavior irritating in any creature, but Champion seems to have found himself a niche where she thinks of it as endearing. It’s nice, she finds herself thinking, to have something that adores you and only you.

“You won’t be able to question them,” Champion admits, and a curious expression plays across his face. He is ashamed, as his ears are going red, but he is smiling as well and glances down at her, “you can’t question them because I killed them. I killed them all.”

Haggar can’t help the smile that creeps up on her. He had been outnumbered; at least 5 against him, alone, and her Champion had walked away. With barely a scratch. Seeing her smile makes Champion smile as well. He is bashful in her praise and turns his face into her palm to collect himself.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he continues after a moment, “because I couldn’t wake you up. I was so scared…” he swallows, she can feel the movement in his throat, “the shuttle was damaged when they tried to hijack us with a carrier ship. But I flew us away. Well, I managed to crash near civilization. You’ve been asleep for two days. I’ve notified the Emperor and he’s sent an escort fleet to take us home.”

She strokes her thumb over his smooth cheek, intending it to be a caress.

“Champion,” she croaks, “I am so proud of you.”

His whole face turns a hilarious shade of red. He can’t stop smiling.

Haggar means it. All of his training, and all of his natural instincts, and none of it could have prepared him for a moment like that. Without his warning she might have been killed, and without him at all she would be at the mercy of the rebels. He had contacted the Emperor of his own accord, and brought her to safety. And then, obviously, sat guard over her. He had done everything perfectly. He was perfect—more than she’d ever realized.

To think, she had been considering eating him for the way he’d humiliated her in the Arena last cycle. He’s proven himself more than worthy of her forgiveness.

She won’t forget the feeling of his blood sacrifice, in her name, for a long, long time.

Champion’s expression goes dark, and he squeezes her wrist lightly, “They… they wanted me to go with them. To betray you. Because I’m not Galra.”

That makes sense. The rebels vehemently oppose Galra oppression, and are very adamant about freeing prisoners and slaves and welcoming them into their ranks. Trash welcomes trash, in the end.

But there is a more pressing question.

“Why didn’t you go?”

Champion is not Galra, and will never be a Galra. Despite the improvements she’s made to him, and how well he has adopted their culture, none of them are fool enough to think that one day he would wake up with a handsome mane the color of sunset. He had been brought to them a prisoner, and while Haggar has raised him above them, and made him into something great, she would not be surprised to know he still harbored longings to escape her. She is strict, and can be unforgiving and cruel, but she always has his best interests at heart.

“If not with the rebels, why didn’t you leave when you had the chance?”

Champion looks shocked, as if the thought has never occurred to him.

“Speak freely,” she urges, curious, “I won’t be mad.”

“I… I—” he stutters, completely at a loss for words. She rarely sees him lose his composure so badly, “Where would I go?” he whispers, “Who do I have to go to? No one knows me like you do. No one accepts me, all that I am, like you do.”

She resumes stroking his cheek. He likes being pet, “No one will love you like I do,” she agrees.

Champion squeezes his eyes tight, stifling his emotions, “I was so afraid,” he admits, “when I saw you fall. I thought you were,” and his voice hitches, “I thought you were dead. I couldn’t think, I didn’t even think to try and capture them. They tried to convince me to run, and then I… I slaughtered them all,” he opens his eyes to look down at her, “I made sure they suffered.”

There are dark bruises under Champion’s eyes. How long had he said she’d been asleep? Two days? He must not have slept, too fearful that there would be another attack. He is still wearing the light tunic he’d brought for the warm Enclosure. He must have lost his robes somewhere along the way, and his cheeks and nose are red with cold. He’s so strong and so fragile at the same time, her Champion. She likes this duality, and that he’s so vulnerable to her.

“Come here,” Haggar instructs, and shifts to create some space beside her.

He shakes his head disobediently, “No, you need to rest more to recover. I’ll stand guard.”

“Have you slept?” she asks, “at all?”

Champion shakes his head, “There are guards at the door, but…” he hesitates, as if he’s speaking out of line, “but I do not trust them. Not with your life.”

“I am awake now,” she says sternly, “I will not be taken for a fool again.”

Champion nods in agreement, “I’ll keep you safe,” he promises.

“Champion,” she orders, “come here.”

Early in their time together she tested most of his limits. Humans did not function well when sleep deprived, and the weariness in Champion’s face indicate that he is exhausted. He’ll be of more use to her if he sleeps for a few hours. Haggar isn’t willing to relinquish her awareness for a while yet, despite how enticing sleep seems to be.

Champion climbs into the bed obediently, fitting against her side. It feels more like home now, since she’s been letting him into her bed more often than not. He has less muscle cramps and troubles when she doesn’t make him sleep in his cage, and it’s nice to have something else share her space like this. She likes the feel of his hummingbird heart, and how it beats for her. He sighs in relief, threading his fingers into her fur. She feels tension drain from him as he relaxes. She runs her fingers through his short hair, petting him as he blinks sluggishly. If he were Galra, he would probably be purring right now.

“You can rest now. I will watch over you.” Haggar says, and while she still feels wary, Champion has allowed her to have enough rest to keep her wits while he regains strength. He’s so small, and so powerful and loyal to her that he inspires a protectiveness she thought had been long lost to her character. She draws on her own powers, drawing deep on the quintessence of the area around her, to reach out and take watch of the hospital for any threats.

Champion fades away quickly, completely relieved to be at her side again. She feels the drop in his consciousness as sleep takes him. It’s all too easy to curl around him, and feel the gentle tug of sleep on her own psyche. The Emperor’s escort is on their way, and until then. Haggar is prepared to sleep in shifts. Champion protected her— he saved her life— and she’s more than happy to return the favor.

It’s strange to think this ugly little alien could mean so much to her. After he came to her, illiterate and unable to speak even the most basic languages, she’s crafted him into an intelligent, powerful and cunning warrior with a vicious bloodlust. While he started as a project, with little interest to her once the deadline passes, he continues to surprise her in all sorts of ways.

He’d been offered a way out. A chance to leave her, to go home. Had she been in his place, she would have run. But Haggar is not a loyal creature. That is not in her nature. To have such a thing, such loyalty and devotion in her hands, blissfully sleeping at her side, awakens something deep and primal in her character that time has nearly erased. Champion has long to go before her work on him is done, but she will be glad to raise him there.

Just as she has claimed him as hers, it appears that he is claiming her right back. He will stand by her side, and guard her when she is weak. He surpasses every single one of her expectations, and when she thinks she knows him, he surprises her yet again.

She doesn’t have blankets to keep his body warm, so she does her best to draw him close. He appears so harmless in his sleep. He could be prey, stumbling foolishly into a Galra den. They would be surprised to find out that he has very sharp teeth.

The Emperor and the High Council were wrong, Haggar decides. They wanted to eat Champion after his blunder in the Arena, but she fought for his redemption. Now she will make them all regret their words. Champion will be greater than they could have ever dreamed. He will surpass them all, and when the Empire needs a hero, a guiding strength to hold on to, they will look to him. And he will be loyal to her, always.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you're interested, please check out the rest of this series!! We got a lot of things to cover for Shiro's Fun Year (:


End file.
